The Many Deaths of Tom Riddle
by LineApe
Summary: Destroying the final horcrux was problematic; now Harry has to find new and creative ways to kill his arch nemesis, all while balancing time between his prophesied destiny and his eccentric... Girlfriend? Friend with benefits? Snorkack hunting partner?
1. Deaths two through seven

Chapter 1: deaths 2 through 7

* * *

The final battle was over, and the light had won. Voldemort was gone. Vanished. Destroyed from his very own killing curse.

A fitting end considering how he disappeared last time.

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Won, was hailed as the savior of the wizarding world.

Harry had spent the last year of his life in the search of some very dark magical artifacts. Tom Riddle aka Lord Voldemort had delved into some of the darkest of dark-arts, stumbling onto a form of immortality.

A Horcrux. An anchor with which one tethers a portion of their soul.

The creation of one horcrux was horrifying, but as it turns out the bastard created seven of the abominations.

A old diary, a ring of his ancestor's, a locket, a cup, a tiara, a snake, and strangely enough, a scar on a teenager's forehead.

Harry had destroyed one through six with the help of a senile old man and that of a few friends. Number seven was the tricky one though. The old man had manipulated the boy into a moment of self sacrifice.

Some nonsense about blood wards, a death stick, and a killing curse...

It was to everyone's surprise when Tommy came back not a week after the battle.

None was more confused than Harry Potter.

Didn't he get them all? Seven seemed like a good number for this kind of thing, how many did the guy make? Thirteen? Seventeen? A number that isn't a prime?

Harry got his answer when voldemort came to see him a few nights later.

His scar was burning.

...Shit. Well that explains that.

Gathering his wand, Harry grabbed his portkey and zipped away.

He might be the Boy-who-lived-then-won-and-then-sorta-tied, but he knew that in a fair fight, Voldemort wins.

So he ran.

A nice afternoon spent exhuming a corpse, and Harry had a spiffy powerful wand again. Dumbledore didn't exactly need it, and it was Harry's anyways.

He decided that he wasn't gonna beat Tom with tricks anymore. A man can be hit with his own killing curse only a handful of times before he becomes wary of the spell.

So Harry decided to just put in the work; training with the best the light had to offer, he spent a year with the best of the best. When Shacklebolt, Flitwick, and the Weasleys combined couldn't touch him he thought it was time.

He caught Voldemort alone one afternoon and decided to attack. The duel was epic. Poems would be written, and a square mile of Scottish countryside was scarred beyond recognition. When Harry decapitated the Dark Tosser, he thought he had finally done it.

He was rather annoyed when the bastard was back being an annoying twit a few hours after the duel.

* * *

Feeling rested after a nice long sleep, Harry picked up his wand and decided to give it another go. How does it go?

'If at first you don't succeed, try, try, again.'

Gathering a few old friends on their lunch breaks, Harry decided to storm the Dark Lord's base.

Riddle manner.

Tom may have hated and killed his own father, but he obviously wasn't ashamed of living in his basement. It was a nice house after all.

Leaving the death eaters to his friends, Harry decided to go after the red eyed freak. The duel was once again epic.

Well, it was epic when it actually started...

Harry was politely asked to take the fight outside as to not damage his lovely home...

So the fight was epic. Poems and all that jazz were sure to follow, and Harry struck down the bane of his existance with a blasting curse. Blew his head right off.

And then a few hours later Voldemort was once again back to his old tricks.

* * *

Deciding that it wasn't working, Harry took decided more training was in store. This time he joined Bill Weasley on a curse breaking trip to Egypt. After nearly a year of searching, he found a fancy Egyptian soul trapping curse.

Happy to find an answer, he took the first portkey back to England and decided to attack Riddle manor.

He didn't need any backup this time given that practically every one of Voldemort's followers were either dead or in jail. Knocking on the man's door, Harry waited and then told Tom to meet him in the back yard.

A few minutes later Harry and the dark lord stood a dozen meters apart for another fight. It was epic. Poems and all that. Then instead of the killing blow, Harry used the Egyptian soul trap. The spell used one's own soul to trap another before you then kill the person.

After what was surely their last battle Harry decided to sleep in his own bed.

He was really annoyed that the next day to find Voldemort was back again.

* * *

Instead of killing him after their next epic battle. Which was really epic. Poems and all. Harry decided to just capture the dude. It was getting annoying.

He spent another year trying every single thing he could find. The Egyptian soul trap, _again_, an Incan soul offering ritual, hell he even sent in a dementor to do the final deed.

Volde was back making mischief not a few hours later.

Motherfucker!

* * *

After another epic battle. Poems and stuff you know? He captured the bastard again. This time he knew he was in over his head. He need backup. He needed a fresh mind.

So he brought in the heavy guns. He brought in Luna Lovegood..

She had a very unique mind. About as unique as they came.

If anyone could think up an 'outside the box' solution to his whole 'dark lord problem', then it was her.

Her first idea was to string him up from his toes and let him die that way. Apparently she heard Filch say something to that effect at some point.

So they strung him up and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

A few hours passed and Harry decided that it wasn't going to work.

"Sorry love, I don't think this one's gonna do it." he said.

He turned to walk away, and with his back to the prisoner Luna shot a silent blasting curse at Voldemort's head.

As it exploded she happily said, "See? You just need to wait a little bit."

Of course, a few hours later voldemort came back and Harry let out a sigh.

* * *

AN: This fic will be about all the nice and unique ways in which volde-baby can die.

You've seen deaths two through seven, whats next?


	2. Deaths eight through ten

Chapter 2: Deaths eight through ten

* * *

Harry was getting tired of always having to chase the bastard down. It was bad enough that he had to kill him, but having to run around and waste ten minutes incapacitating him? What a chore.

Using his and his associate's fine minds, they decided to just resurrect him themselves.

The first ritual did not work as planned. Harry, under the mistaken ideology of 'If it ain't broke, don't fix it', decided to use the same ritual that he witnessed the the rat do after the third task.

If the moron could do it, so could he.

The first leg of his adventure found him in a quaint little graveyard. A good twenty minutes of digging later, and Harry was the proud owner of a muggle skeleton.

Tom Riddle Sr in the flesh. Well, more like in the bone.

Using Luna's keen mind, Harry was able to kidnap Lucius Malfoy. Apparently the Quibbler was right: Lucius really did like the company of male amputee prostitutes. He also liked goblin pie, but that was neither here nor there.

With the bone of the father and... a servant... Harry decided to get to work.

He and Luna made a day of it. A bone or two, a couple of Lucius' fingers, and a dash of Harry's blood. However, he was doing it from memory, so he made a few mistakes. The bone of the father unknowingly taken was fine, but the flesh of the servant was not so willingly given. Lucius had put up a bit of a fit; Something about needing his fingers. Wimp. Also, the blood of the enemy was not forcibly taken, Harry was actually into the idea of resurrecting the dark lord.

This meant that when Voldemort was risen, he was without many of his much needed organs. Even dark lords need hearts, even if their not prone to use them. He was also missing a penis, multiple other internal organs, an arm, and half of his head.

The last one was probably a deal-breaker.

He was dead the second he rose.

"Well shit." Harry sighed, "Any ideas Luna?"

"Salt always works to make things better." she replied, "Maybe we can put a cup or two in with a dash of paprika?"

"Its not a soup Luna." he groaned, "We're not seasoning him for dinner."

"Its worth a try." she responded.

Harry shrugged, and then grabbed his wallet for his trip to the store. He was out of Garlic power anyways, why not get some Paprika too?

* * *

Well, that didn't work. Sure, he lived a little longer this time; the paprika apparently altered the mixture enough so that he had both a head and a heart, sadly however it was at the expense of his skin.

Then the salt was like pouring... salt on the wound.

It took him ten minutes to die this time, but this time it was in agony.

Harry still chalked it up to a win though. Ten minutes is better than zero minutes in his book.

By the time it was over, Lucius was still complaining about his missing foot. No fingers, AND no feet? What a tool.

* * *

Harry decided that while they searched for a new resurrection ritual, he should just let Voldemort come back by himself. No point in wasting time on a ritual that is obviously flawed.

Harry knew where to find Tom, so instead of another epic battle Harry just hit him in the back with a stunner.

A hop, skip, and a jump later and Harry was back in his evil lab. -- Errr... basement -- with his henchgirl -- Errr... sexy helper girl -- ready for their next attempt.

Unfortunately, they couldn't decided on how to kill Tom next.

Harry was dead-set on finding a dark ritual to bind his soul to a goat, and was suggesting to ask Abeforth for some of his dark and illegal goat related spells.

Luna however, wanted to hire a flock of veela, and force him to have sex for twenty hours straight.

Harry thought her idea was far too kind, and Luna didn't like goats.

After a few hours of arguing they did however find a compromise.

Luna didn't like like goats so they found a horse; Harry didn't want veela sex, so he decided on anal sex... with a horse.

They did however decide that twenty hours was a good number.

Tom was not very happy with the idea of being buggered by a horse. He protested rather profusely the entire time, but twenty hours passed and the Dark Lord still lived. Well, he lived until the horse removed itself from his rectum and he bled to death from a large anal tear.

But alas, the Voldemort rose again later that day. He decided to stay risen as well, because it was rather painful to sit down.

* * *

AN: Oh, however will Tom die next time?


	3. Death eleven

Chapter 3: Death eleven

* * *

"You know Luna, its just not fair."

"What is not fair Harry?"

"It's just that... I wanna do stuff you know?" Harry said, "I mean, killing Voldemort is fun and all, but I just want to go and do other stuff you know?"

"like what Harry?" Luna asked, "I'd say we're doing something right now."

Harry gave her a small smile. "Yeah we are..." he replied, "But I wanna do something outside! Ohhh... yeah right there Luna."

Taking his response to heart, she did the same motion again. "Well then, how about a trip. I still haven't found a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. We tried Sweden, lets take a few weeks and search a few nuclear waste dumps. How's that sound?"

"It sounds great Luna, but what about Voldemort? Someone needs to feed him and water him. We can't just leave him in his cage. That would be inhumane!"

With a rather large thrust, she responded, "Well, we could get him a self refilling water dish, and I'm sure he can last a couple weeks without food."

Moving his hips in time with hers, he said, "I guess, I mean we can leave the window open so he can have some fresh air..." With a loud grunt he added, "Oh, I'm almost there Luna!"

"Me too Harry." She replied, thrusting up and down with a furor. "He'll be fine without us, and maybe we'll find a new way to kill him while away!"

He then threw his head back and let out a moan. Waiting a moment to compose himself, he extricated himself from her embrace and slid off the bed. "Okay, but next time I get to be on top!" he said with a firm voice.

* * *

They left that day, and before leaving they made sure tom knew how to use his water dish. However, little did they know the dark was hypoglycemic. Without a proper intake of food, his blood sugars would drop.

It did not take long for him to go into shock. Over time he went into a coma and eventually, he died.

* * *

Sweden was known for it's mountains, and its nuclear waste dumps, but Harry was interested in something else. He was on top! Booh-yeah!

He had the WWN turned way up, and he was 'rockin to the beat!

"Breaking news from Britain! You-know-who is back! He was seen today exiting honeydukes with a large bar of chocolate mumbling about blood sugar! Is You-know-who's next plot to turn blood into sugar? Is he secretly a vampire? Stay tuned while our expert panel discusses!"

Harry was mid-thrust when he shouted, "WHY CAN'T I EVER BE ON TOP?!!!"

* * *

AN: Poor Harry, he never catches a break!


	4. Death twelve

Death twelve

* * *

After grumbling about his inconsistent sex life, Harry dragged himself out of bed and makes his way to his clothes.

"Luna love, could you meet me back at the lair... err… house in say... half an hour? Tom got loose so I need to go and get him before it gets cold outside." Harry said adding, "Could you bring a few cups of coffee with you?"

"Sure Harry, Tom will surely need something to warm himself up with," she replied, "Should I make them Irish?"

"Yes love, that will do nicely. Tom needs a stern talking to when we get home, and maybe a little something extra in his drink will make the talk easier."

With that, Harry flung on his clothes and then walked over to his Portkey.

A simple "I hate these things," was heard as he span away.

* * *

After twenty minutes of searching Harry found Tom; He didn't even need to use the 'Lost/Reward' Posters he created.

After grabbing the Dark Lord's collar, Harry pressed his hated portkey onto Tom's arm and whisked them both back to the lair.

* * *

Harry and his arch nemesis sat quietly in the living room. Harry was reading the paper, while Tom was staring at Harry in contempt.

The young man tried to strike up a conversation a few times, but Harry could feel that Tom was still a touch upset, so he decided to wait for Luna's arrival.

At the thirty minute mark – to the second – the customary 'pop' of apparition signaled the arrival of Luna.

In one hand was a tray of coffee and in the other was a bottle of some sort of booze. The Lovegoods, aside their various media enterprises, were also known for their alcoholic beverages. Great stuff, but as a matter of company policy no two bottles were ever to taste the same.

Being that Harry and Luna were... Friends? Fuck buddies? Together? Yes, together, Harry always had access to some high end booze.

She handed each a beverage and then poured a glug of the good stuff into all three cups.

"So Tom, we're starting to get worried." Harry started, taking a sip of his coffee, "We want to know how you died. Are you feeling depressed Tom? Do we need to get you a therapist to talk you out of another attempt on your life?"

"I'm not suicidal you moron!" Tommy snarled, "You fucking half-bloods are getting stupider every day!"

"Tom, we've been over this before. You're a Half-blood yourself. The sooner you admit it, the sooner you will learn to love yourself. Is that what this is about? You killed yourself because you were ashamed of your half-bloodness?"

"I didn't kill myself! And I'm not a filthy half-blood! I'm the heir of Slytherin! No Slytherin would ever dirty their line with filthy muggle blood!"

"Tom, I know you don't like to admit it, but your father was a muggle. Get over it and get on with your life." Harry said, "And if you didn't kill yourself then how did you die Tom? How?"

"I um… well… It's kind of embarrassing…"

"Go on."

"Well, I'm hypoglycemic…"

"Hypogly... OH! Ok, that's interesting. Well, next time we're out of town we'll leave you with some snacks or something," taking another sip of his coffee he turned to Luna, "Wow love, this is some great coffee."

Turning back to Tom he said, "Tom, you should try this coffee, it's really something special."

"No."

"Why not?"

"It's probably poisoned!"

"Seriously Tom, do you really see us as the types of people to poison a bloke?"

"Yes"

"Well, it's a shame you have so little confidence in us." He said, "Luna, did you poison the coffee?"

"No dear."

"Are you sure?

"Yes"

"See Tom? It's completely poison free."

"I don't believe you! Take a taste first, then I'll have some."

Grabbing tom's coffee, and then looking Luna in the eye Harry asked, "Are you sure, sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay." He replied, taking a sip, "Damn good stuff."

Tom grabbed his coffee back and took drink.

"Hmm, for a muggle drink, it's pretty good."

"See? We don't have to be hostile!"

"You're trying to kill me!"

"Well, you started it."

"True."

"So, if I'm going to kill you -- and we both know it's going to stick eventually – then can't we just be civil in the meantime?"

"Fine, but I don't have to like it." Tom replied, while taking another sip. Almost immediately Tom started choking and flailing his arms.

"Luna! Did you do something to his coffee?!"

"No, nothing was done to his _coffee_."

As she said this, Tom fell to the floor writhing in agony.

"Well then why is he… wait, why did you emphasize the word coffee? Did you do something that could lead to his death?"

"…Maybe?"

"Maybe? Yes or no?

"Yes?"

"I took a drink from that cup woman! I don't have the convenience of a horcrux like Tommy over there, what if I died!?"

"Please... The sticking charm holding the stir stick in his cup was only spelled to dislodge thirty seconds after he took his first sip. You were in no danger at all."

"So, he's dying right now because a stir stick is stuck in this throat?"

"Yes. It looks painful."

"It really does… but dammit, now I have to go out and fetch him again!"

As he made his way to the door he heard her call from behind him, "Get some whipped cream, you can lick it off my body later tonight!"

With a sigh he replied, "Yes dear…"

* * *

AN:

Only one death for Tommy today, maybe some more in the near future eh?


	5. Death thirteen

Death Thirteen

* * *

Harry recaptured his arch nemesis / pet and placed him back in his cage -- Food bowl now included.

Hopefully Tom likes the hard style dog-food, if not there is still the doggie treats for later, but only if he's a good dark lord. They always seem to love them in the commercials.

Feeling that they were safe to leave and resume their Snorkack hunt, the couple packed a bag or two, and returned to Sweden.

The first place they checked was their hotel room. The bed specifically. Naked.

Probably not the most likely place to find one, but Luna was very persuasive, and Harry easily persuaded.

This time Harry had no illusions about his 'being on topness', and allowed Luna to set the pace. It was great, incredible even, but a little part of Harry died when he realized that he would never get to be the one in control between the sheets... Then she did that thing with her tongue and he forgot why he was complaining.

* * *

They searched high and low, up in the mountains, and under the water. Nothing. Damn you Crumple-Horned-Snorkacks! Never anywhere to be found!

Granted, they weren't looking very hard.

They searched the hotel room every day, multiple times, and came back empty handed. Luna was nothing if not persistent.

* * *

Another day and another fruitless search. Luna had this great idea to check in a sewer. Long story short, soapy shower sex ensued shortly thereafter.

After a relatively long wash, Luna was in the mood to search the bed for the 78th time in the last month. As previously stated, she was nothing if not persistent.

As per their normal routine, Harry put on the wireless. Crumple-Horned-Snorkacks loved music obviously.

Luna liked the local Swedish station because she liked ABBA and Ace of Base, and frankly those were the only two artists the swede wireless played.

Harry however liked a little variation, and it was his turn to choose the station; he set the dial to the British station and laid back to wait for Luna.

Of course, things never work out well for Harry.

"-- ose just joining us, we repeat, You-Know-Who is back, _**AGAIN. **_I know, you'd think we'd find the return of a dark lord surprising or something, but here we go again. I repeat, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back and making mischief. Latest reports say that he broke into a wizarding home and washed himself for an hour while mumbling about cleaning out the filth and something about some 'damn half-blood'. Could Lord Thingy be starting a new reign of terror to cleanse the world of these so called 'damn half-bloods'? Stay tuned as our expert panel discusses. This hour is brought to you by Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans -- a risk with every mouthful! New flavors include: lobster, toilet paper, sweet and sour pork, and tree bark!"

"Wow, they are getting creative with the flavors, I'll give 'em that..." he mumbled. Picking his head up from the pillow he yelled, "Tom's dead again love, maybe he lied about not killing himself last time?"

"Does he need another talking to dear?"

"No, we gave him the carrot, now it's time for the stick."

"I thought I was the only one that got the stick, I don't want to share your stick with Tom!"

"Not _that_ stick love, more like a pointy stick to jab him with, or to whip him with."

"You can do both with your current stick."

"Luna, are you trying to be difficult?"

"Yes. Would you like me to stop?"

"Well, I've got to go find Tommy again, but you can be difficult all you want when we get back to the lair err – apartment. Meet me there?"

"I might be a little late, I'm still a bit randy from the shower and I'll need some bit of time to finish up -- If you know what I mean."

"Well, I could perhaps help you with that you know…"

"No, its okay Harry, with all the Crumple-Horned-Snorkack hunting we've been doing lately, I haven't really had the time to toss one off in a while."

"…Right. Well, then I'm off!"

* * *

Harry searched for a while, but then decided to just go home for a while. Runaway pets are known to just show up at home, so Harry was hopeful to find Tom waiting outside his cage err – jailcell err – Room. Yes room.

As he made his way through the hallways of his home, a disgusting smell quickly assaulted his nostrils.

"What the fuck is that smell?!" he cried.

Following his nose, he found the smell to be originating from Tom's area of the apartment.

A bad feeling settled into the bottom of his stomach.

Did he do something wrong? He forget food last time, did he forget something this time?

As he rounded the final corner he instantly figured it out.

Shit.

Literally.

You see, he gave Tom food and water, but in his haste to play hide the Snorkack err – find the Snorkack – with Luna he forgot a pretty crucial detail. Everybody poops. He should know, he read the book. Even Dark Lords poop, and over the course of a month he did so quite a bit; without a chamber pot in the room.

Oops.

Probably died wallowing in his own feces.

Well, they'll probably need to find a new place... rather quickly at that, and good luck getting the damage deposit back...

Hmmm... they did rent from a muggle... maybe after a few well placed memory charms the landlord will forget the large pile of feces?

Well, better go find Luna before she gets here and sees this.

"What the fuck is that smell?!"

Too late.


	6. Death fourteen

Death Fourteen

* * *

No matter how many cleaning charms were cast, it just would not go away.

It was almost as if every single surface in the whole damned apartment was covered with the god awful smell.

Writing it off as a bad job, the two of them decided to throw out all their belongings (or perhaps burn them), and set up a permanent air freshening charm in the apartment for the future residents.

They probably still wouldn't get the damage deposit back; his landlord _is_ really stingy after all, damage from leaving fecal matter in an apartment for a month should be expected damn it!

Cursing his bad luck, Harry went in search of his annoying nemesis.

Why couldn't he have a harmless nemesis like other people?

See, other people have 'that guy', you know the one; the guy that glares at you for no reason, always steals your parking spot, 'accidentally' knocks over your coffee, and somehow grabs the last pack of Twinkies from the corner store every single time you've been craving them.

You know, _that_ guy_._

Harry didn't have that. No, he had a nemesis that didn't like anal sex with horses, wouldn't ever let him be on top with his girlfriend, left copious amounts of fecal matter for him to clean up, and just wouldn't die and leave him in peace.

The first few were bad enough, but the last one was by far the most annoying.

* * *

He searched low and high for his nemesis.

Unlike the last few times that he looked for the dark lord, Riddle didn't seem to be outside waiting to be caught.

Strange.

It wasn't much of an obstacle however; given that Harry and his friends had either killed or sent every dark wizard to jail because they were totally awesome like that, Voldemort was all that was left.

A simple (for harry at least) dark magic detecting spell pointed to Tommy boy's most likely location, and he was off!

* * *

A small abandoned house in Hogsmeade was where the spell took him.

What's he doing inside? Hiding?

Feeling no need to knock, He went straight through the front door.

Quaint little place isn't it? Doesn't look abandoned from the inside, huh, actually looks rather lived in.

His thought pattern was abruptly ended by the sound of a loud groan.

Instantly he pulled out his wand and sprinted to where the sound originated.

Was the dark lord torturing someone?!

He opened the door a crack and peered inside.

What he saw was one of the most disturbing things he had ever witnessed. Perhaps even _the_ most.

"Who's your dark lord!" A man screamed as he relentlessly pumped back and forth.

"You are!" a lady screamed, her body bent over the mattress.

"Say my name!" he roared.

"Voldemort! Oh yes! I'm been a bad witch!" she cooed.

"Yes you have, and now I'm going to punish you." He said in a firm voice. He raised his hand over her ass and readied a slap.

Before he was mentally scarred any further, Harry interrupted them saying, "I would really prefer if you didn't."

"Gah!" the dark lord screamed, falling to the floor and taking the woman with him.

Tom's hands searched frantically for the sheet on the bed. After grabbing a corner, he quickly spread the sheet over the naked pair.

For the first time the dark lord looked up to see who dared stop him mid way.

"POTTER!" He bellowed, "For fuck sakes! Don't they teach you kids how to knock these days?!"

"Well, for all I knew you could have been killing someone behind that door! Plus, there was no sock on the doorknob or anything."

"That's a fair point."

"Thank you, so who's the girl? Does she know that you're a dark lord? Does she know that you might kill her right afterwards?"

"I am well aware Potter," the woman said.

"Holy crap, it's Bellatrix Lestrange! Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Along with my lord, I have shuffled the mortal coil and transcended from you weaklings! I am an immortal!"

"Ah shit. Tom, Did you teach her how to make a horcrux?"

"Bro! Don't use that name in front of her! It's Voldemort dude, exnay on the omtay!"

"TOM!"

"…Yes."

"For fucks sake! Why the hell would you do that?"

"Dark lords need lovin' too…"

"But couldn't you have done better? I mean, you used to be popular; couldn't you net a foxy lady like Narcissa? With Lucius out of the picture you could totally hit that! Why go for the ugly sister?"

"Hey! I may be an insane prison escapee who is clearly not the most attractive of witches, but I still have just as many feelings as you, and they hurt just as much as yours when you stomp all over them!"

"My apologies, you old hag. Wait, aren't you in your thirties? Why are your tits practically sagging to the floor? For that matter, why do you look like an old hag who spent half her life sucking on lemons?"

She sighed before replying, "Azkaban."

"Right! Is it as bad as they say it is?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, Sirius said the same thing. It's those damned dementors, huh?"

"Not to interrupt or anything, but do you mind Potter?"

"Eh?" potter asked, before seeing the dark lord motioning to some clothes piled up at his feet. "Oh, sure."

He tossed the clothes over and waited as the dark lord robed himself.

"Um, Bellatrix, aren't you going to get dressed?"

"No, you should leave so that we can finish."

"Can't do, now that I've found a loyal follower of Tom's I can finally do that ritual right."

"Ritual? What ritual?"

"The one that requires the flesh of a servant willingly given."

"No! I will not let you kill her, despite her horrid appearance, she's a decent lay!"

"Relax, I can cut off just a bit at a time. She will last for a while if I ration it right. Oh! Plus, because she has a horcrux, then she can come back again too! Unlimited flesh of the servant! Boo-yeah!"

"How do you know she will do it willingly?"

"She is totally insane, I bet she would go for it."

"Probably right. What of the blood of the enemy?"

"Fudge was an idiot, but I doubt he would call you a friend."

"Ah, good choice."

"I thought so. Anyways, I take it that she has been the one resurrecting you up to this point?"

"Yeah."

"Cool. Reducto."

Voldemort's head exploded.

"Not in the mood to be creative. Come Bellatrix, we need to make Voldemort rise again. I'll need a bit of your flesh for the ritual, I'm sure you don't mind, right?"

"Sure."

"Come along then. Be warned, if you annoy me too much, I will tell Neville Longbottom that you're alive. I'm sure he could find some fun in killing you over and over again. Painfully"

"Okay."

"Could you put some clothes on first?"

"No, I need to be nude for when my lord returns."

"Is that a rule or something?"

"No, just proper manners."

"Right, carry on."


	7. Deaths fifteen through seventeen

Deaths fifteen through seventeen

* * *

Harry and Luna's early forays into resurrection rituals failed due to them missing all the proper pieces.

They may have had the bone of the father, but the flesh of the servant and blood of the enemy wasn't quite right.

That, and they didn't know how to make that demon baby thing that Pettigrew made for Voldemort's body.

All they had to tie Tom to the ritual was one of his rotting corpses.

Needless to say the first attempts failed.

The next set of attempts were more fruitful.

The first time Tom was missing his penis – which wasn't a deal breaker (well, at least for Harry. Tom didn't like it.) – but he was also missing his legs, arms, nose, and eyes.

He also had thirteen nipples.

Harry didn't want to experiment on something that grotesque, so he simply killed him and started again.

Luna kept suggesting paprika, but Harry wasn't in the mood to try.

He remembered what it did last time.

The next one appeared to be exactly what they needed. All the limbs were intact, his face was normal looking, all his nipples were in their proper places, and he had a penis to boot. Tom would be happy with that!

High fives were shared all around.

Then they tried to talk to Tom.

Nothing.

Was he deaf?

The slapped him on the head a couple of time to get his attention.

Nothing.

Luna kicked him in the balls really hard.

A minor twitch, but nothing else.

Harry was tired of the most recent attempt and decided to start from scratch again.

Luna's postmortem autopsy revealed that this Tom was made without a brain. All that was in there was – strangely enough – green Jell-O.

Harry was getting frustrated.

His 'flesh of the servant' was down two fingers, and there was nothing to show for it.

His 'blood of the enemy' was screaming like a banshee and making completely unreasonable demands.

Why would a person ever want their conjugal visits to be with Delores Umbridge in the first place?

Couldn't the former minister do better?

It sucks, two hours wasted and nothing to show for it.

Luna kept rambling on about paprika and Harry's patience grew thin.

Right after adding the blood, he's had enough.

"Just put in a bit of paprika! What's the worst that could happen?"

"Fine! You want paprika, i'll give you paprika!"

He stomped off to the spice cabinet and stomped back with the shaker in hand.

"There's no need to get in a fit Harry."

"No, you wanted paprika, and here it is!"

He dumped in the entire container.

The whole cauldron boiled over and not a few seconds later the dark lord rose from the unholy mixture...

Fully intact and in better shape than he'd ever been.

"My bad knee is better than my good knee now!" the dark lord cried.

"Huh..." Harry said.

"Okay Harry, what have we learned?"

"That your crazy ideas work sometimes?"

"Sometimes? When have I ever led you astray?"

"Well, you did basically rape me back in sixth year."

"Rape? That's such a strong word, Harry. I woke you up by giving you an unsolicited blow-job, that's hardly rape."

"Oh? What if I had snuck into the girls dorm and done the same thing?"

"Well, I don't think there were any girls with penises in _my_ dorm, so I don't think a blow-job would be very possible... I can't speak for the other dorms though. For all I know millicent bulstrode has one."

"You know what I mean. What if I ate out some random bird in the girls dorms."

"Azkaban I'd expect. You're far to old to be sneaking into the dorms and preforming sex acts on the children."

"For Merlin's sake! If I had, in my sixth year, entered the girl's dorms and orally stimulated a girl of comparable age, what would have happened?"

"I would have been quite receptive, and given your celebrity status, I am sure many girls would have been equally so."

"There's a double standard and you know it!"

"I don't see why you're complaining; you were quite happy with the outcome. You didn't complain once, and because I did it, you lost your virginity not a day later."

"Still! I'd consider you telling me that you had to suck out the flumpawumps or I would become a poofter leading me astray!"

"I don't think you ever actually believed that, and even if you did, you caught on pretty quick."

"I'm still here you know." Tom said

"Right. Reducto."

"Harry, you're not being creative at all!"

"Well, his recent rise has been something of a proof of concept; now I can kill him however I want! Whenever I want! If I ever wanted to kill him with the contents of a fruit bowl, I could! I'm quite partial to a banana."

"Or a coconut."

"Who puts coconuts in a bowl of fruit?"

"Daddy and I"

"You realize that coconuts are not proper fruits, right?"

"Harry, have you ever even _met_ my father and I?"

"You make a good point."

"Don't I always?"

"Anyways, we have complete control over Tom's mortality; do you know what this means?"

"We can search for snorkacks all we want?"

"No, we can have all the sex we want."

"I was using a metaphor."

"And I was using the actual words. We could have sex right here, right now, if we so choose."

"I'd rather not, there are three corpses in varying degrees of decay in here."

"Bedroom?"

"Bedroom."


End file.
